Beneath the surface
645 Words
Chapter Eleven: Beneath the Surface
Saraphina didn’t sleep that night.
While Lucian brooded in his study like some stormy statue, she sat in bed, staring at her laptop, her thoughts racing faster than her fingers could type. Dahlia’s words replayed over and over in her head like a warning shot:
> “Does she know what you really are, Lucian?”
It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t just a bitter ex.
It was a challenge.
A dare to dig deeper.
Saraphina had been raised in power, but not in freedom. Her father had always controlled the narrative — the press, the meetings, the public smiles. She knew how to find truth in shadows. She’d just never wanted to know it so badly before.
Now she did.
Now it was personal.
---
By morning, she had something.
An old, nearly-buried article on a secret intelligence group known only by its codename: Helix.
No names. No photos.
But one blurry image.
A man — tall, suited, blurry — standing over what looked like a rooftop crime scene. The image was grainy, distorted.
But she’d recognize that stance anywhere.
Lucian.
The caption was vague: "Private operations. Classified investigation. Suspected rogue asset.”
Saraphina’s stomach twisted.
> Rogue asset.
Killer.
Weapon.
Was that what he was trained to be?
She dug deeper, finding whispers of connections — offshore accounts, property purchases in untraceable names, a series of "accidents" that conveniently benefited powerful companies… including Devereux Gold.
That made her freeze.
Her father's company was listed in one of the flagged investigations.
But that was over ten years ago.
Right around the time Lucian’s sister… died.
Saraphina’s fingers went numb on the keyboard.
Her family wasn’t just involved — they were profiting from the people Lucian was hunting. Covering it up. Using him.
> And now she was married to him.
Not by fate.
By design.
---
She didn’t realize she’d started crying until a drop hit the keyboard.
She wiped her face, breathing hard.
Everything she thought she knew — her father, her legacy, the marriage — was tainted. Her family had built an empire on blood. On his blood.
And Lucian had been thrown into her life to destroy it all.
Except…
He hadn’t.
He had kissed her like a man drowning.
He had protected her. Stood up for her. Stayed close even when he claimed to hate her.
> Why?
Why hadn’t he killed her yet?
The thought chilled her. But not in the way it should have.
Because part of her… didn’t believe he ever would.
---
Later that evening, she found him on the rooftop — again.
The city lights glowed below. Lucian stood at the edge, dark against the orange skyline, smoking something she couldn’t quite identify.
She didn’t speak right away.
Just walked up beside him.
He didn’t look at her.
“You know,” she said softly, “you’re not as good at hiding things as you think.”
He exhaled, a plume of smoke vanishing into the wind.
“You’ve been digging.”
“I found Helix,” she said. “I found the photo. I know who you are.”
He was quiet.
Then, “And now?”
Saraphina looked at him. Not as a monster. Not as a stranger.
But as a man who’d been broken before he learned how to bleed.
“Now,” she said, “I think I understand why you don’t sleep.”
Lucian turned to her slowly, eyes unreadable.
“You should hate me.”
“I think I hate the part of me that doesn’t.”
A long silence.
Then he said something he never thought he would.
“I didn’t plan to fall into this. Into you.”
Her heart jumped.
“And now that you have?”
His voice was soft. Ragged.
“I don’t know how to climb back out.”
- Writer
